


Countdown

by whimsicalfey



Category: Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Claustrophobia, F/F, Forgiveness, On the Run, Past Abuse, Slow Burn, Vampire Laura, as if season 3 craziness doesn't exist, vampire bites do change humans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 06:51:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13676493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicalfey/pseuds/whimsicalfey
Summary: “Youidiot,” Carmilla curses herself; panic running its claws up her spine as she hovers over Laura’s pale, sickly form. "What have you done?"You justhadto bite her, didn't you?But Carmilla couldn't let her die.- hollstein. season 1 AU. vampire bites do change humans.





	Countdown

It isn't supposed to be taking this long.

Carmilla remembers her own change to be agonizing, and painful, and ugly, but not _long_. It was brutal – and only bearable because it was so brief.

But for Laura... She's not in agonizing pain. Or, well, it didn't seem like it – and if there’s one thing you can count on this girl for, its whining about pain – but she's in a slow burn of one, lasting days. The girl drifts in and out of consciousness, her blood scalding but her skin pale, and lukewarm, as if her body is in lingo – halfway between the living and dead.

If the vampiress tries to breath, it comes out shallow, a dip away from panic, and so she doesn't at all.

Carmilla doesn't know what to do.

It isn't the first time she's felt this way – her insipid roommate has this nasty habit of bringing it out in her. But it's the first time it doesn't have her hissing but makes Carmilla's still heart twist sharply in her chest.

She was only trying to save her – it was the only way – but what if Carmilla didn't? Oh, wouldn't it be ironic – that the vampiress' attempt at saving a life only ends it anyway, and more quickly. More painfully.

_"Vampires aren't capable of 'good', dear. Haven’t you learned that by now?”_

The rain that drums the old wooden walls makes her head spin, her body aching. Carmilla has been running from that hellhole of a university for days now – from on foot to stolen motorcycles that don't drive easily through rural countryside. And with the girl's limp body slung across her back, after dragging her with her, willing or not… Carmilla is exhausted.

Thank goodness for farms, and for storms. Whatever vampires Mother sent after Laura – her precious virgin sacrifice – would find Carmilla's scent trails long washed away. Carmilla’s skin sparks with anxiety, because she doesn't know how long that that will buy them, exactly.

Her throat burns, and Carmilla can't keep up this pace forever. She doesn’t know how this will end, but… it isn’t looking pretty.

"You idiot,” Carmilla curses herself, throwing her soaked jacket across the space with a wet smack. "What the hell have you done?"

 _You just_ had _to bite her, didn’t you?_  

But Carmilla couldn't let her die.

Without the leather sticky against her skin, the vampiress sighs. Carefully, she shuffles closer to her roommate, fingers pressing to expose the smoothness of the girl's right shoulder; an angry mark marring the skin along her neck.

She finds the twin punctures beneath the plaid fabric, still deep, still slowly leaking blood. Carmilla had definitely bitten deeply enough – Laura had yelped, muscles tightening as her fangs sunk in to nick the artery.

_But… why is it taking this long?_

Carmilla tastes the bitterness leaking onto her tongue; her venom. She had bitten the girl, yes – but it was quick, and messy, like on all struggling victims.

_Was there not enough venom to…?_

That wouldn't bode well.

It seems cold sweat is building at the back of the vampire's neck when Carmilla leans in, sniffing the inflamed cuts – but that could just be the rain, making the air inside the barn damp and muggy. Stifling. The girl is laying gently atop a layer of hay, and so the vampire bends over as she does so, just a breath away from the girl's face.

She smells sweet.

"But not dead," Carmilla mutters under her breath. Past the thick stench of wet animal and manure – which Carmilla doesn’t even have the energy to be bothered by – it’s obvious. The acidic scent of her venom does linger on the bite marks, distinctive, but only over the scent of human – and the slow, erratic beat of Laura’s pulse.

Briefly, the vampire considers biting again, just sliding her fangs into the imprints in her neck. Too much venom, though, is sure to kill the girl – Carmilla's mother is ever so fond of that, of nursing her victims until they burned alive from the inside.

Carmilla hesitates, but part of her considers it… if only because if she doesn’t, she isn’t sure how much time she’ll have.

The rain beats down on the old, mite-beaten walls – the only barrier between them and her mother’s vampire underlings, on the hunt. Carmilla shivers, drawing the damp leather closer around herself.

Death will take the girl eventually. It’s just a question of whether she’ll be awake on the other side.


End file.
